Sunday, February 26, 2012

After her long hiatus, Mother apparently felt overdue in her attentions towards me. She appeared this afternoon, and let me out to eat on the lawn awhile.

She brushed me. She picked my hooves. All is well.

She got out the clippers. I could tell from their whining drone that they weren't terribly sharp. This means it will take Mother forever and sometimes the blades will tug. I have a lot of hair, after all.

Mother trimmed my bridle path. She ran down the outside of my ears. She undid the snap under my jowls, and started "clipping".

It was more like hacking.

There are now horrible ragged tufts all along my underside of my face. At times, Mother was holding clumps of hair and trying to run the clippers through them.

It was embarrassing.

She quit after that. I was relieved, yet a little hoping she was at least planning to even the butchery out. sigh.

She claims she has fresh blades at home and that she will switch these out soon. I don't think the fact that I wear through clipper blades in just two or three head/jowl/leg sessions that that is any excuse for Mother not to have sharp ones on hand EVERY time.

But I did get to go back out on the grass a bit longer, and I got cookies and everything, so it was still a pretty good day.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

So I was in the run-in tonight, minding my own business and waiting for Aunt Marilyn to come up with hay, when I hear a voice calling my name. I peer out into the darkness... it sounds like Mother, but I don't... see...

The voice is coming from the fence line of the neighbors. Hmmm, Mother sometimes comes up that way. I see a blob of light colored motion. What the heck is that??

I walked out of the run in, and the blob made a funny sighing noise and slipped through the fence and started coming closer. I stood scenting, staring, trying to decide what this was. It sort of sounded like Mother, but also made some whining noises and odd crinkling sounds. And it bobbed in a strange fashion. It came very close.

I smelled Herballs.

It was a Mother-apparition; I mean it sounded like Mother, but she was so light, and I've never heard her crinkle like that. It extended an arm towards me, Herball in hand.

I snorted and backed away.

"It's only me, Boyfriend. I know I look different, you just haven't seen this coat before. It's what is crinkling."

It took another step, arm still stretched out. Uh, I can eat the Herball if I s-t-r-e-t-c-h. Crunch crunch. It walked closer and fed me a few more, but the crinkling continued and I wouldn't let it touch me.

Belle walked up, and the Mother-apparition fed her one of MY Herballs and scratched her under the jaw. Maybe it is actually Mother? Belle doesn't seem alarmed by the crinkling. Of course, she wasn't worried about the rattlesnake, either.

I let the Mother-apparition touch me, a bit, but the crinkling really was too much. I followed alongside as it walked across the Small. I realized the odd bobbing I saw and strange whining was actually Mother trying not to get her shoes muddy.

I guess it was really her all along. While it was nice of her to bring me cookies, it would be nicer if she was less creepy when she did it.

Friday, February 17, 2012

One thing I will say for Mother, her list of excuses why she doesn't come to see me EVERY DAY is limitless. Just when I think, "Surely she will come visit me soon", she has some other reason she didn't come up.

"My car got smushed."

"They are going to stop Papa's heart, remove and refurbish, replace and restart."

"It's cold out."

Mother, your excuses are wearing. Please just come visit soon! I've even taken to nickering at the aunts...

Mother provides me with hot meals. The Aunts do, too, but they usually just bring water up from the house, already warm for cooking.

Mother uses her little electric kettle.

I used to really dislike the kettle. Mother used it to warm water for face cleaning in that first winter (and spring and summer) while battling the hole.

The worst thing about the kettle, though, is that it screams and hisses most oddly. It doesn't start out doing that... so I stare at it suspiciously until it does. Then I let Mother know it bothers me.

Mother has learned to prepare the kettle when I am not around. And since it makes my dinner all perfectly cooked and yummy, I guess I don't mind it as much.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

He was an interesting horse to talk to... he had seen the worst and best in humans during his life. He was a padded show walker in his younger years, passed over and passed on eventually to a careless and thoughtless human.

Sonney starved to the point his shoes nearly weighed more than the rest of him.

Then the good part of his life began with my two favorite aunts (other than my current feeding aunts, of course); through hard work and much love, they brought him back to health and happiness. They had great fun riding trails, gaiting up a storm, and finding the occasional mischief whenever Mother was involved. Sonney was always happiest with his person aboard and a wide level trail to travel.

Unfortunately his earlier mistreatment left him with long term effects that progressively reared their ugly heads. He had many struggles with colics, mysterious maladies with his kidneys and circulation, and most recently EPM. It was with great sadness that, after another bout of colic, his humans let him go.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

A few years ago, before I had my surgery on my leg, Mother was teaching me how to carry her around. After our initial abortive attempt, I realized it was not such a bad idea. It made her so happy, and it really wasn't that hard of work.

Although she is pushing her maximum density in these pictures. By the time she was less dense, I no longer was asked to carry her. Well, last year we did our little mini rides 7 or 8 times. But that doesn't really count.

So the other horses she now rides get the benefit of her minimalization, and not me. That doesn't seem fair. But since I didn't know better at the time, I just made the best of the situation.

These pictures were taking shortly before she went away for quite some time. Aunt Margie made sure I got brought in and fed and cleaned and everything during that time. As you can see, I already had her number. I knew which pocket was the cookie pocket.

Mother announced one cold spring day that she was going away for a while. She brought me in from the field, led me up to the mounting block at the back of the barn, and before I knew it, she was sitting on me.

Just her. No saddle... it felt quite strange. When I started walking it felt stranger still.

There was lots of strange things about that. She didn't have a helmet, I didn't have a bridle... I had less than 15 rides. Another human looked at her asked if she had gone crazy. She said, "Well if he kills me, I don't have to go to ****, now do I?" She just rode me to the front of the barn. It wasn't so bad.

She started riding me without a saddle a lot more, usually just down to where I would hand graze, and again on the way back up to the barn. It was strangely comforting, being ridden without a saddle. It reminded me of something, but I can't quite put a hoof on it...

Olaf C. Seltzer - Stolen Horses .

Anyway, those days are long gone. Now I don't have to do any work for my cookies.

Mother has done lost her mind. She goes around humming and singing some song about my buddy, Iota McHippus. Fenway from Brays of Our Lives introduced us, and ever since Mother has been singing this:

I don't mind, though, because Iota is a pony with a plan. He is trying to be the coolest horse - well, at least voted the coolest horse. Mother tells me all the time I am the most wonderful horse in the whole world, but I didn't enter the competition.

Anyway, Iota is trying to win so he can give money to charity. So if you are prepared for a giggle, you really should meet Mr. McHippus.

Friday, February 3, 2012

I was munching on some pre-diner hay the other day, minding my own business. All by myself, in fact, on the feeding mat in the barnyard while the rest of the herd loitered in the Small and stared at me. Mother stood off to one side, admiring me I suppose. My peace is broken by the appearance of a staggering donkey and Mother's concerned inquiry, "Donkey?! Are you OK???"

I look over to see my fat donkey lurching past Mother then twitching and staggering backwards and sideways... Whaaaat the heck....???

Donkey continued in his bizarre fashion towards me and the mat, until one staggering step away he swung round, pinned his ears, and snatched a chunk of my hay. He trotted away quickly.

Mother burst out laughing. I figured I shouldn't let him get away with such insubordination, but I was feeling lazy and I still had plenty of hay.

Besides, that was quite the interesting show.

Mother secretly hopes to recreate the circumstance and catch it all on film.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

I get my brown grain pellets made mushy (as compared to the orange-y pellets made mushy... Mother started that back a week or so ago).

I get my dinner in the blue tub most of the time. It is nice because Belle can't reach in as well as she can with the pan. I am in charge of my herd, don't mistake me, but sometimes I let her have some grain because a) she doesn't get grain and she whines and looks all pitiful, and b) it tasted funny with all the supplements Mother used to use, so if she wanted some, I didn't really mind.

My IR powder that tastes pretty good.

The bulky funny powder that tastes not too bad. Mother says it is flax seeds and other stuff; I don't really know. I just eat what she puts in the pan...

My apple-y vinegar-y stuff. Yumm.

Differences:

Mother's Milk. She says it is actually something called Acti-Flex 4000, but it looks all thick and creamy and it TASTES AWESOME!! It's sweet and yummy and I am so happy...

Oh, there's also the sparkly powder now that tingles on my tongue. I've had that before in my grain and I rather like it. Mother says that is MSM to boost the amount in the Acti-Flex.

She also gives me special cookies...

So, this is really all I could have hoped for. In the past, some of her supplemental choices have been less than palatable... blech!

From the beginning: My introduction

I am a fifteen year old horse named Boyfriend, sometimes Bif. Sometimes "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown". Sometimes names I really don't think bear repeating. After years of misappropriating mother's phone and email, I now have my own site.

All of the stuff under My Favorite Grazing Places and Mother's Favorite Sites are unpaid (why would I need money?), Mother just really likes them and likes to share. She can be a generous sort, at times...